


just carry me home tonight

by the_one_that_fell



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Drunkenness, Fluff, Friendship, M/M, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-21
Updated: 2017-08-21
Packaged: 2018-12-18 08:29:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11870502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/the_one_that_fell/pseuds/the_one_that_fell
Summary: In which Bittle is drunk and Jack is very patient (and a jerk with a great ass).





	just carry me home tonight

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on tumblr [ here.](http://alphacrone.tumblr.com/post/164431562087/pre-zimbits-in-which-bittle-is-drunk-and-jack-is)

“I can't  _ believe  _ I didn't stay for Senior Week last year.” 

Bittle was sprawled across the grass in the little cemetery on the other side of the soccer field. Jack wasn't entirely sure how he got here, but he was very drunk and very alone, and everyone else was very drunk and not answering Bittle’s texts. 

“Having fun?” Jack asked, hands in his pockets. 

Bittle pulled himself to his feet, using a headstone for balance. “Mmph, sorry there, Mr. Dead Dude. Don't haunt me for this.” 

Bittle was drunker than Jack feared. He stumbled over, eyes glassy and unfocused. There was no doubt Jack would be cleaning vomit tonight; Bittle was  _ so _ buying him Annie’s tomorrow. 

Laughing at his own clumsiness, Bittle careened straight into Jack, tripping over the uneven earth. “Jack,” he said, voice muffled by Jack’s shirt. “Did you know they had  _ margaritas _ at the mingle tonight? Alcohol! That the school bought! For us!” 

Jack wrapped an arm around Bittle’s back and slowly led him out of the cemetery. There was a crudely woven crown of dandelions on Bittle’s head and grass stains on his knees. He'd clearly been lounging among the gravestones for a while. 

“-an’ then he said I was cute.  _ Cute, _ Jack.  _ Cute.”  _

Jack, admittedly, had not been listening to most of Bittle’s story, more concentrated on shepherding him across campus. But he couldn't help but notice the irritation in Bittle’s tone. 

“Is cute...not good?” Bittle  _ was _ cute. With his little upturned nose and big, warm eyes, anyone would think he was downright adorable. Even, apparently, a serious grump like Jack. 

“ _ No, _ ” Bittle huffed. “I want guys to find me  _ sexy, _ not  _ cute. _ ” 

Jack wasn't sure why they were mutually exclusive. Bittle was cute with his oven mitts and preppy shirts, but he could be sexy too, especially when he wore those ridiculously short-shorts to Spring C a few nights earlier. Jack almost made the mistake of saying this out loud, but Bittle seemed to have moved on to other subjects. 

“Ooh! Where are _they_ going?” 

Bittle pointed to a group of students who were wandering down to the Pond, carrying a huge cooler and openly drinking. The campus police tended to look the other way during Senior Week, but Jack was not about to tempt fate by letting his underage teammate anywhere near the open containers. 

“No,” Jack said sternly, grabbing Bittle’s arms and forcing him forward. “You're going home and drinking water.” 

“But-!” Bittle dug in his heels, whining a little. “They have beer!” 

“No.” Rolling his eyes, Jack bent down and hoisted Bittle over his shoulder. Living with Shitty for three years, Jack had learned that sometimes it was just easier to manhandle drunks than try to reason with them. “We’re going home.” 

“ _Boo, you who_ \- mm, that's not nice.” Bittle went boneless, giving up his brief attempts at wriggling out of Jack’s grasp. “Lord, I'm starting to talk like Holster.” 

“The day you actually sound like Holster will be the day hell freezes over,” Jack laughed, patting one of Bittle’s thighs. “Say ‘chyeah.’”

Bittle swatted at him half-heartedly. “You're such a jerk. Jerk Zimmermann.” 

The sun was starting to set behind the trees, and Jack thought what a lovely walk this might've been if Bittle had been sober. The pinks and oranges would've illuminated Bittle in that way they always did, making his skin and hair glow golden and warm. He looked most beautiful in those moments, like he'd been born to reflect the light of the sun. 

“Jack?”

“Yeah?” They were almost to the Haus now, just a few blocks away. Jack slowed his pace, afraid the jostling was making Bittle sick. 

“Do you think you’ll ever find  _ the one _ ?” 

This certainly hadn’t been what Jack was expecting. “The one?” He asked, stopping altogether to set Bittle down. 

Bittle stumbled backwards as soon as his feet hit pavement, and Jack lunged forward to hold him upright. Bittle had his dandelion crown clutched between both hands, and he laughed a little as he swayed. 

“You know? Your soulmate?”

“Haven’t you heard?” Jack asked with a self-deprecating smile. “ _ Hockey’s _ my soulmate.” 

Bittle didn’t look amused. “I’m serious. Aren’t you scared of never finding her?” 

Jack shrugged. “I’m not looking for love, Bittle. I’ve got too much to do.” 

“Well I  _ am _ ,” Bittle said, frowning. “And I’m so scared I’ll never find it.” 

“Bits.” Jack ran his hands up and down Bittle’s arms, though it wasn’t cold out. “There’s more than one type of love. And friendship? Family? You’ve already found that. Most the guys on the team would take a bullet for you.” 

Bittle laughed darkly. “Would any of them make out with me, though?” 

“Shitty would, if you asked. You know he would.”

Bittle rolled his eyes. “Is it too much to ask for a little romance?” 

“No,” Jack said, steering them towards frat row. “And you deserve it.” 

“Aw.” Bittle grinned up at him. “Thanks.” 

“I have to say, though, I’m a little surprised,” Jack said as the Haus came into view. “Every time I’ve ever carried Shitty like that, he’s commented on my ass the entire way. You didn’t make one ass joke. I’m hurt.” 

Bittle’s face turned a brilliant shade of pink. “Shush, just because I’m a proper gentleman-”

“Has it shrunk since the season ended?” Jack asked, struggling to keep a straight face. “Does it seem lackluster now that you’ve come face-to-face with it?” 

“Stop!” Bittle laughed, hand over his mouth. “Stop chirpin’ me!” 

They were at the porch now, and Jack could hear the others partying inside. “I’m graduating Bittle, and I’ll leave Samwell knowing that you think my ass is subpar.” 

Bittle hit him-- _hard_ \--on the chest. “Shush, Zimmermann. Your ass is Canada’s finest national treasure. And you  _ know _ it.” 

Jack smirked. “Thanks, Bittle.”

“No, thank  _ you _ for the ride.” Bittle looked up at him, smiling crookedly. “I don’t think I would’ve made it across campus by myself. Probably would’ve slept in the cemetery.” 

“Then Mr. Dead Guy really  _ would _ have haunted you,” Jack chirped. Bittle ignored him. 

“Here.” He stood on his tiptoes and placed the wonky dandelion crown on Jack’s head. “Now your head’s as pretty as your ass.” 

His hands brushed against Jack’s chest as he lowered them, and Jack’s skin felt hot from the touch, even through his shirt. If Bittle weren’t so drunk- if he weren’t leaving- if things had been different- 

“Thanks, Bittle,” he said softly, catching one of Bittle’s hands in his. “For everything.” 

Bittle gave him a curious, unfocused look. “Uh, you’re welcome?” 

“BITS! JACK! GET IN HERE NOW!” Shitty shouted from the front door, totally naked and covered in mud. “LARDS IS ABOUT TO BREAK A SCHOOL PONG RECORD.” 

“C’mon, Bits,” Jack said, tugging on Bittle’s hand. “We can’t miss that.” 

Bittle laughed, and let Jack pull him into the Haus, a warm, happy, beautiful presence by Jack’s side. 

(In the morning, he wouldn’t remember much. But Jack would greet him with Annie’s, a bagel, Advil, and a wilting flower crown, and chirp him all morning long.)

**Author's Note:**

> If you like my writings and such, please consider checking out my online novel, [ The Discourt Knife. ](Http://thediscourtknife.com)


End file.
